


Darkside

by Iceshard1011



Series: A Change of Perspective [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Fire, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iceshard1011/pseuds/Iceshard1011
Summary: Things aren’t adding up, despite Virgil’s frequent visits to the Dark Side. Why has Patton always been so excited to see him? Why does Logan look angry when the light sides are brought up? Why does Roman act like it’ll be the last time he sees them when he leaves? The answer Janus and Remus provide him with is nothing like he expected.
Relationships: Anxiety & Creativity & Dark Creativity & Deceit & Logic & Morality (Sanders Sides)
Series: A Change of Perspective [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099088
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Darkside

**Author's Note:**

> tw: fire, violence, panicking, yelling

_A hiss. “And where have you been all night?”_

_Arguing. A snapped remark._

_A long conversation, drawn out on the couch between the trio._

Virgil had his head cupped in his hands. Across from him, Janus and Remus were quiet.

When Virgil finally lifted his head, eyes fatigued and throat slightly thick, he stared at the carpeted ground. He didn’t look up at the light— at the other sides. He wasn’t sure he could quite literally face them.

They’d caught him in the kitchen. They had known where he had been. Janus had told him to stop going. Virgil had told him he wasn’t going to listen. Remus had gotten angry. Virgil had stood his ground, furious.

Then Janus had sat him down on the couch and relayed the most disgusting story Virgil could imagine.

Virgil wondered if he was really remembering hints of the story, or if it was his mind tricking him.

It was horrific, though, how easily he could picture Patton and Roman and Logan here in the mindscape, clothes neat and pure, smiles easy and relaxed. Free of dark corridors and nasty attacks and snarling in the night.

Perhaps worse, was how Janus and Remus and _Virgil_ fit into a dark setting. The way Janus moved like a snake hunting for prey made sense. The way Remus was energetic and startling and sometimes worrying — sometimes _scary_

“You let them go.”

“They wanted to.”

Virgil shook his head. “We should have gone.”

“It would have made things worse for you,” Janus said gently. After a moment he added, “For Thomas.”

Virgil’s head shot up, and he finally looked at the other side. He couldn’t help the snarl that curled on his lips. He could see exactly where the scales would fit on his face.

“Do you _honestly_ think that, _Self-Preservation?”_ he spat. Janus might’ve flinched, but he hid it well. “Or do you just want to believe it, because that’s the easiest thing to do?”

“Virgil—”

Virgil stood, suddenly furious. “How _dare_ you?” he snarled. “Aren’t you _Deception?_ Aren’t you supposed to _protect_ Thomas?”

“I did protect him!” Janus snapped.

“You threw his light sides into the subconscious!”

“It was _their_ idea!”

“It was _my_ idea to visit the subconscious to see them, you weren’t about to let me do that, were you?”

Janus hissed, his tongue flickering in and out between his teeth. “That’s different.”

“How?” Virgil demanded.

Janus didn’t reply. Virgil’s fists clenched.

_“How?”_ he snapped. Janus recoiled, but stayed silent.

Virgil growled. “I’m going back.” He turned for the direction of the basement but was intercepted by Remus. “Get out of my way.”

“You don’t want that,” Janus said, coming up behind him. “Not really.”

Virgil hated him. He hated the way Janus lied, he hated the way Janus always thought he knew everything. He hated the way two different sets of memories were battling for residence in his mind and he didn’t know really what to think of the sides he thought were his family. Most of all, he hated the way Janus was _right._ Virgil definitely also how he was now crying.

“I just—” Something dripped from his eye. He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I can’t believe I was so _weak.”_

“You weren’t,” Janus said immediately, moving to tilt his chin up. Virgil couldn’t see him very clearly through his tears.

“I couldn’t handle the _subconscious,”_ Virgil choked out. “I couldn’t handle a few scary things happening to me.”

Janus looked almost physically pained as he dried Virgil’s cheeks. “You were _traumatised,”_ he whispered. “No one blames you for it.” Virgil sniffed and leaned forward into Janus’ arms. He was content to just stay there in the quiet, but then Janus continued, “Unless you’d uh— prefer I said that it is _definitely all your fault,_ and _everyone_ blames you for everything, and you should _definitely_ blame yourself.”

“I do,” Virgil murmured. Janus sighed. Another pair of arms hooked around Virgil’s waist and Remus ducked his head to bury his nose against Virgil’s neck. He squirmed with a scoff. “You’re cold.” Remus hummed. It was odd to have him so refined.

“We’ll work it out,” Janus promised.

Virgil pulled back, and the other two retracted their embraces. “I want the light sides back.” Remus just barely bit back a growl behind him and Janus’ lip lifted in a sneer, and he rushed to elaborate. “With you guys, too. I don’t— I want you as well. I just… I miss them. But I miss you, too. So— I just…”

“Need the best of both worlds,” Janus supplied softly. Virgil shrugged.

_“Need_ is a bit successive,” he admitted. “But yeah. That’d— that’d be really good.”

Janus smiled, and it looked real, and Virgil relaxed. “We’ll work it out,” he said again.

Virgil started to smile back, but then the was a slamming noise that shot through his nerves. He would never admit that he practically leapt back into Janus’ arms as Remus whirled around, looking for the threat.

Instead, the trio found a panting Patton at the door of the basement. “Help,” he gasped out, his voice raw-sounding. “It’s— the— _help.”_

Virgil shot forward instantly, gripping Patton’s shoulders and keeping him from bowling over. He leaned heavily into Virgil. Janus and Remus joined them on either side.

“What is it?” Virgil asked. “Pat, take a breath.”

“S-self-destruction,” Patton panted. Virgil’s stomach dropped past his knees. “At the house.”

Virgil had to grip Patton tighter to keep himself from feeling too dizzy. **“Take us there,”** he said, and immediately startled himself. He didn’t look to anyone for help; he’d work out his weird demon voice out later. Right now he had more important things to be anxious over. “Where’s Logan and Roman?”

Patton shook his head, and Virgil almost felt sick. “Trapped.”

Janus swept down the basement immediately and Remus darted in after him. Virgil pushed Patton back by his shoulders.

“Pat, take a deep breath.” Haltingly, the moral side did as he said. The tension in his frame released, if only a small bit. Virgil nodded with a smile. “Good.”

“We— we need to get back—”

“Yeah, I know,” Virgil said, and he surprised himself at how calm he sounded. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Patton said fiercely. “Let’s go.”

Virgil almost had to chuckle at the moral side’s energy, but when he clambered down the basement stairs into darkness, where he once found cautious wonder, he felt thick, black dread seeping into his bones like scented death.

The house was easy to spot. It wasn’t far from the bottom of the basement. Had the subconscious known the concept of daylight, it certainly would have been within viewing distance.

It was also easy accessible to see due to the roaring flames billowing from his walls and roof and windows.

“They’re trapped in _there?”_ Virgil cried shrilly.

“I couldn’t get them,” Patton said. He was shaking, Virgil realised. “I couldn’t—”

Virgil hadn’t even realised he was sprinting for the doorway until a hand grabbed him by the neck and yanked him backwards.

“Remus, you stinking trash heap, let me go!” he snapped, wriggling in the creative side’s grip. “I swear, if you don’t—”

“What are you going to do, vampire?” Remus snapped back. “Dodge the flames?”

“If that’s what it takes!” Virgil cried. The heat of the fire was washing over the group, but he wasn’t sure if that was the cause of his stinging eyes.

Heedless of the blaze lashing out like a lapping tongue, Janus strode forward and smashed his staff into one of the windows near the open door. The inferno billowed away from the blow, leaving an open exit.

“Don’t you _dare_ go in there!” Virgil snarled, still struggling against Remus.

“Don’t get so worked up.” Janus obviously tried to sound calm, but he still had to shout back at them over the fire. He was eyeing the interior of the house with a worried look.

“How does this _happen?”_ Remus demanded to Patton.

Patton was quivering. “One got inside. I-it— it got _inside—”_

Virgil finally pulled from Remus. He hurried over and brought Patton to his chest like it was the most natural thing. “It’s okay, Pat. They’ll be fine.”

Howling rose above the sound of the flames, and for a horrible, heart-stopping moment Virgil wondered if he was listening to Logan and Roman burning to death, but then Remus snarled, and more wails filled the air. Virgil caught a glimpse of a flash of pale streaking through the darkness, just on the other side of the light the fire was illuminating. He held Patton tighter. Remus gripping his morning star with both hands, eyes narrowed as he scanned their surroundings.

There was dozens of them, Virgil realised in horror. A whole pack — _several_ packs if they were so unlucky — of self-destruction were prowling around the speculate of the alight house. Virgil could never get a clear look at any of them. The only indication that they were _anywhere_ was the horrible noises they continued to make. Virgil wondered if how he was feeling right now was identical to the way prey felt being circled by hyenas. It wasn’t a nice feeling.

There was another sound of breaking glass, and Virgil turned, expecting to see Janus trying another window, but instead he watched Logan tumble from the house, a coughing, wheezing mess.

Janus got there before Virgil could think to move, heaving him up and pulling him back to where the others were gathered. Patton made a heartbroken noise and shot forward, meeting them halfway to smother Logan. Virgil had a second to truly wonder if he was about to have a panic attack, but then Roman was bursting from the same window, hacking painfully. Janus practically dragged him by the scruff over to them.

With a shattering cracking sound, half of the house’s roof collapsed inwards.

Roman was coughing so hard Virgil was worried he was either going to hack up a lung or vomit — maybe both, some part of his stupid mind murmured as he crouched in front of his friend. Roman clawed at his throat, his eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, stop it—” Virgil propped him up, drawing his hands away. _Hey, stop!_ something in the back of his mind cried, but he shook the thought away. He rubbed Roman’s back, and slowly his coughing eased into quiet wheezing. “It’s fine, Princey. You’re okay.”

Patton and Logan came to couch beside them, both shivering. Patton had draped his hoodie over Logan’s shoulders.

“We’re okay,” Patton was murmuring, almost to himself. He pressed his forehead to Roman’s temple. “We’re alright now. It’s okay.”

Looking at them now, Virgil found it hard to believe that he had ever been convinced they were dark sides. He felt another wave of anger wash over him at Janus’ incompleteness. How could he ever have looked at these three and decided they would be alright in the subconscious? They were barely hanging on by a thread.

A snarl, far too close, yanked Virgil’s attention back to the darkness.

Janus and Remus had circled protectively around their small group, eyes scanning for threats, but there was only two of them, and this time when Virgil looked he spotted at least six shapes darting around, whooping and howling like deranged wolves.

“I won’t be much help,” Janus admitted to them. His voice wasn’t quiet, and not quite sad, but regrettable in a way that reminded Virgil of forlornness. “I’ve adjusted to Self-Preservation. I still control parts of deceit but… not as strongly.”

“I can’t keep them all at bay,” Remus growled. Virgil had expected he would have been thrilled at the turnouts; lots of things to fight, exciting displays, creatures to rip to shreds. “There’s too many.”

Roman had pulled out his sword at this stage, but he’d dropped it in another coughing fit. Virgil winced.

Out of nowhere a blur of teeth and snarls shot toward them, gaping jaws aiming for Patton. Virgil darted in front without a lick of hesitation.

Really, he should have screamed when teeth sliced into his arm, spewing blood. He probably should have regretted everything immediately and shrieked and cried and hunkered to the ground to be mauled by the self-destruct.

He could guarantee he was just as surprised as everyone else when he didn’t even flinch — and instead opted to punch the self-destruct with his free hand hard enough that a handful of teeth splattered onto the ground in a grotesque artform of rain.

It scrambled back with a squeal and scampered into the darkness.

Virgil hadn’t even felt the pain until Patton had wailed and he’d followed everyone’s horrified gazes down to his arm. He’d felt faint the moment he’d seen the horrendous work left on his skin.

Arms wrapped around his chest and lowered him to the ground. He couldn’t catch who was talking to him, or who had caught him. He supposed that the blazing pain somewhere on the left side of his body was from the bite, but surely it couldn’t be all bad, right?

“It’s not,” assured Janus’ voice from behind him. Had he caught Virgil? That was atypically nice of him. Didn’t they hate each other?

_You don’t think he would hate you?_ his mind supplied in a helpfully scathing hiss.

“No, darling,” Janus’ real voice murmured. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Janus lied a whole damn lot, but Virgil was usually pretty good at picking how truthful he was. Either he’d kept that skill, loopy and bleeding out as he was, or Janus had become a better actor.

Virgil’s head lolled to the side without his permission. He caught a glimpse of red — _red?_ — gloves wrapped around his arm. He watched as Remus hit three self-destruction away from Logan in one clean swing. Roman just barely managed to swipe a self-destruct away from him with a weak slash of his sword. To the side, Patton was pale, and shivering, his eyes wide and wild, and he was panicking, panicking, panicking—

“I’m sorry,” Virgil realised Patton was mouthing to him, tears rolling down his cheeks. His gaze was darting between Virgil’s arm and face, as if he wasn’t sure what was worse to stare at. “I’m so sorry, I just— I want— it’s too— _can everything just STOP?”_

Virgil’s breathing hitched in shock. Patton’s yell had reached impossibly loud octaves, dare Virgil be slightly hyperbolic and say that it shook the subconscious.

He was not exaggerating in any shape or form however, when he had watched blue light shoot from Patton out into the darkness. It billowed up against the fire, almost immediately quelling it completely, leaving only ash behind, and chasing at the self-destruction even as they ran away crying.

Everything went perfectly quiet, save for the stray cough and collective panting amongst the six of them.

“It was Patton.” Janus’ voice impossibly felt too loud. “It was supposed to be Patton.”

“W-what?” Patton asked, his bottom lip still wobbling but his eyes a bit clearer than before.

“Of course,” Logan said. His voice was painfully hoarse and raw, but he spoke with a confidence and practicality that was typical to who he was but also laughable to the circumstances the wreck of a group had just found themselves in. “Morality interposes Deceit. He was supposed to be the one to take your role up.”

Virgil between everyone else, wondering if this was making total sense to them. Patton looked like a strange mix of awed and doubtful, Remus looked like he wasn’t paying attention, and Roman looked— furious.

“Oh,” he coughed, and Virgil had to wince. He sounded as if his throat had been rubbed down with sandpaper and then coated with sawdust, with a side dish of thirty years of smoking. “So _that’s_ why nothing I did _worked!”_

Remus snorted.

“Something funny?” Roman grumbled.

Remus poked his brother in the ribs with his boot. “You’ve been spending your entire time here trying and failing to beat back countless subconscious monsters and it was all for nothing. That’s _hilarious.”_

Roman grumbled more, but it tapered off into wheezing pants.

Virgil leaned back against Janus, a long sigh escaping him. His head was beginning to throb, and his arm still felt like he’d tried to reach into the flaming house and pick up embers, but it was quiet. There was no wailing, no crying, no self-destruction or hallucinations or voices in his head. Just the peace knowing his family was finally, _finally_ safe.

“You know.” A gentle hand passed through Virgil’s hair pleasantly. “I’m not so sure it’s worth keeping the dark sides ‘hidden’ from Thomas much longer.”

Virgil glanced up at him. “I mean, I know everything now, and I think I’m starting to remember — plus, like, Thomas was in on all of this too but— I just— are you serious?”

Janus smirked, and Virgil felt that maybe, _maybe,_ things were really about to work out. “Would I lie to you?”

Virgil was an anxious mess. He stressed about far too much, far too often. He almost never relaxed, and he struggled to sleep, finding himself awake far into the early morning and still scrolling mindlessly on his phone, unable to stop thinking. Sometimes he had nightmares. Sometimes, if they were really bad, he would creep down the hallway and seek out one of his friends. Always, they would welcome him, and always, he’d almost instantly feel the tension bled from his shoulders, and on those nights, he would always manage to finally fall asleep.

Virgil was Anxiety in every sense of the word.

And he was the most content side in the mindscape.

Logan strode past where Virgil was perched on the edge of the stairs, watching the movement in the living room. “We have a video with Thomas starting in less than five minutes, does everyone have the basis of what will be discussed?”

Papers flew to the ground, fluttering about. One stuck itself to Remus’ face, where he was hanging upside down across the television. “Has anyone seen my planning sheet?” Roman asked, rapidly rifling through his pile of pages as he moved from the couch to the kitchen and back.

Patton dodged around a clump of questionable matter that Remus was hurling in random directions, trying to balance a tray of cooling, freshly baked cookies.

“Bit chaotic, is it not?” Janus slid up beside the staircase. Virgil pressed their sides together briefly. The others had gotten incredibly touchy with him, aft everything. He was certainly not complaining, in any sense of the word.

Virgil hummed noncommittally. Janus chuckled. “Are you alright to do this video?”

Virgil shot him a glare. “I am not glass.”

Janus tossed his head. “Perish the thought.”

Virgil hid a smile. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine.” Janus hesitated, but he nodded, and didn’t protest. It was a win.

Patton bustled over to them, pushing the tray under their noses. “Last minute snacks, kiddos?”

“I’m good, Pat,” Virgil laughed. Janus waved him away with a friendly smile.

“Thomas has started his camera,” Logan announced. He cast them all a dark look. “You best have been spending this time on preparing to the best of your abilities.”

“Yes, yes,” Roman said, still distracted with looking through his papers. Virgil grinned to himself. Logan sunk out in the middle of rolling his eyes. Patton hurriedly shoved the tray back into the oven to keep the cookies warm and followed after him. Remus snorted and rolled off, disappearing into the floor. Roman scrounge together the nearest pages he could reach and followed suit, Janus a few seconds after.

Virgil took a deep breath. _Showtime._

He sunk out, popped up on the stairs, and smirked at Thomas, just as he always had.


End file.
